David Robbins - Spartan Run

If one of their patrols spots us, were dead.

At least well have died trying.

The two men ran at a steady pace to the northwest, angling across a wild field, the landscape surrounding them brightly illuminated by the radiant full moon overhead. Both men were in superb physical condition due to their grueling daily toil, and both breathed easily as they silently ate up the distance to the next stretch of woods.

Off to the east an owl hooted.

What if we dont make it, Ansel? asked the shorter of the pair. He cast repeated fearful glances to their rear, clearly far more nervous than his companion.

How many times must I tell you, Merle? responded the other. Well escape if we keep our wits about us. You must calm yourself. Weve gone fifteen miles already and theres been no sign of them.

Their patrols cover a thirty-mile radius, Merle noted apprehensively.

Then only fifteen more miles and were free men, Ansel stated. Free for the first time in our lives.

Freedom, Merle said softly, pronouncing the word with exquisite delicacy, as if the very term was too fragile to withstand its utterance.

For two minutes they jogged onward, until ahead loomed a dark wall of foliage typical of the lush vegetation found in the former state of Iowa.

Can we rest when we reach the trees? Merle inquired hopefully.

If you must.

Im sorry, Ansel. I know Im slowing you down.

Dont be ridiculous. Im glad you came along. I dont know if I would have had the courage to try alone.

You would. Youre naturally brave. Even they knew that.

How do you figure?

They picked you to be an overseer.

They picked me because I followed their orders better than most. No other reason.

Merle scrutinized the forest and licked his thick lips. I hope we havent made a mistake well live to regret.

Isnt freedom worth the price?

Yes, but what if were wrong. What if there isnt any place better?

What if the outside world is even worse? Its been one hundred and six years since World War Three. Who knows what well find?

Ansel regarded his friend for a moment. Its too late to turn back now.

Theyve undoubtedly discovered were missing and have sent trackers after us.

Do you really think we have enough of a head start to outrun the dogs?

I hope so.

Merle ran a little faster.

Soon the fleeing pair reached the treeline. Scarcely slowing, they plunged into the forest, swatting at branches that lashed their bodies and plowing through undergrowth that tried to snare their legs. The heavens were harder to discern, but every now and then they spotted the North Star and knew they were still on course. Twenty strenuous minutes elapsed, and at last they emerged from the oppressive gloom to find a seemingly limitless expanse of open plain ahead.

I could use a break, Merle commented, puffing from the exertion.

I guess a rest cant hurt, Ansel said, and halted.

Expelling a breath in relief, Merle stopped and placed his hands on his knees. Im glad I didnt eat much supper.

Ansel glanced at his companion. So am I.

Do you still think it was wise not to bring a food pouch along?

Yes. The less we carry, the better we run. Thats the reason I insisted on taking nothing except the clothes on our back. Ansel looked down at his sweaty, torn T-shirt and his tattered jeans. If I was one of them, Id strip off all my clothes and run naked just as they do during the contests and processions.

If you were one of them, you wouldnt need to run at all, Merle said.

Ansel cocked his head, listening.

Did you ever wish you were? Merle inquired.

Were what? Ansel replied absently, still listening.

One of them?

The question distracted the taller man and he gazed at his companion.

Did you?

Every damn day. Id love to have someone grow all my food for me. Id love to be able to lord it over Helots and have them do all my bidding.

Most of all, Id love to wear one of those flowing red cloaks, bronze helmets, and short swords, Merle said dreamily. Id love to have it easy like they do.

You really think they have it easy?

Sure. Dont you?

Not at all.

I dont understand.

Do you think its easy for them to be taken from their parents at the age of seven and forced to live in a barracks? Do you think its easy for them to devote almost all of their time to perfecting the arts of war? Do you think not being permitted to marry or have children until the age of thirty is easy? Ansel asked. I dont. I dont envy them one bit.

Merle uttered a light laugh. You almost sound as if you pity them.

In a way, I do.

Amazing.

Why?

Because if you dont hate them, if you sympathize with them, then why the hell are we out in the middle of nowhere running for our lives?

Ansel cocked his head again. I might sympathize with them, but that doesnt mean I condone the status of the Helots. Id rather be free. If I cant be, then I might as well be dead.

Merle opened his mouth to speak.

Hush! Ansel cautioned, motioning for silence with his right hand.

What is it? Merle blurted anyway.

Listen.

Merle did, and for several seconds he heard nothing out of the ordinary.

Then his ears registered the distant barking, and goose bumps broke out all over his skin. Oh, God!

The dogs, Ansel declared angrily.

How far away?

I dont know. Maybe a mile. Maybe less.

What should we do?

Keep going, Ansel suggested, and suited action to words by racing to the northwest.

Wait for me! Merle bleated, and hastened to catch up, his short legs pumping furiously.

Our only hope is to find a stream or a river, Ansel said. They cant track our scent through water.

Are there any in this area?

Not according to the old-timer I talked to, the one who drew us the crude map.

Were doomed!

Dont give up yet. Where theres hope, theres life.

Onward they sprinted, oblivious to everything except the barking of the canines to their rear. Both their forms became caked with sweat, their shirts drenched. The plain was unending.

Were doomed, Merle repeated forlornly.

Keep going.

Maybe we should give ourselves up.

Be serious.

I am, Merle stated, breathing heavily. If we stop now and let them capture us, they might decide to go easy on us.

Dont be ridiculous. You know the law. The Lawgivers stipulated that any Helot who tries to flee should be put to death.

The reminder sparked Merle to increased effort. He looked over his shoulder every ten strides or so, dreading the moment when he would spot the lanterns. Three quarters of a mile later he finally did. Look!

Ansel glanced back and frowned. Evidently I miscalculated.

Miscalculated? Damn, man, were about to die and you act like you made a mistake on a math problem.

Were not dead yet.

Im open to any bright ideas.

Let me think.

Were doomed, doomed, doomed.

Five minutes went by. The lanterns drew ever nearer, the barking ever louder and louder.

Merle wheezed air out and gasped akin, his entire body strained to limits he never imagined he could withstand. But he refused to slack off.

Surrendering was a stupid idea, a desperate step of last resort. He imagined how it would feel to have a pack of dogs tear into his flesh, and his terror of such a gruesome death eclipsed his fear of their pursuers.

Trees! Ansel suddenly stated.

Hope welling within him, Merle stared ahead and saw sprawling woodland. If we can make it he began, and wasnt able to complete the sentence for want of breath.

Well make it.

Their feet pounding on the ground, their limbs constantly in motion, they covered the thousand yards to the forest, and paused before entering to ascertain the exact location of the patrol after them.